Love Song
by americanhoney139
Summary: Some days nothing feels right and some days you've got too much on your mind. But when you find that special person to share your life with, they'll understand that sometimes you just need time or a loving hug to feel safe. Because that's what makes this story full of love. That's what makes this a love song. AU


Love Song

Miranda Lambert

_I was standing there crying in the kitchen _

The brunette stumbles down the stairs, her arms spread before her in the dark hallway so she won't bump into anything. There is a strange lump in her throat and she swears as her fist raps against the kitchen door. Her whole body feels heavy; it hurts to breath as if she has been crushed under a million tons and is somehow still alive.

She shakes her head as she walks over to the glowing numbers on the old coffee maker. Six in the morning and she can't fall back asleep. She mechanically pours water in and spoons in enough so that it won't taste too bitter… even though she feels as though it'll taste bitter either way. She sits down at the kitchen table with a sigh and rests her head on the cool wood. She can't think what is wrong with her.

Everything had been fine the night before. She and her boyfriend had gone out to a nice dinner and then had come home to watch _Finding Nemo_ (her favorite Pixar movie). He knows she was into childish movies. He teases her relentlessly about it- she never takes it to heart- but she knows that he is just as much of a child on the inside as she is. And what's more, he'll cry at the end of _West Side Story_ and _Bambi II_, which makes him all that more of a teddy bear in her eyes.

So why is she feeling like the whole world is crashing down on her? Why is she feeling like she had fallen into a black hole and not even the sound of his snores can get her out of her funk (she used to giggle so loud it would wake him up)? As she is pondering her moodiness, the coffee simmers and goes off. She jumps up and rushes over before she can wake him, not knowing that he is already rising from the bed upstairs.

_It's been one of those mornings that's gonna last all day_

She swears loudly again as the scalding liquid slides down her throat before the lump is back. She places the coffee on the day-old newspaper before gripping the marble island, her arms spread and tense, knuckles white. She can't stifle the sob that comes from her mouth as tears begin to fall. She shakes her head, cursing at herself for crying over nothing. If she doesn't know why she was so down, then _why_ is she crying in the first place?

More tears poured down her cheeks and some find their way into her cup of the brown liquid, others finding the hollow of her throat to rest in. She presses the heel of one hand to her eye before she wanders over to the window. The sun is just beginning to rise, washing the room with a warm amber glow. The brunette has always loved the sunrise- it's her favorite part of the day and he would always grumble if she makes him get up early to watch it- but today the sun isn't really doing anything to the strange mood she's stuck it. And she knows from experience that it's going to stick with her the whole day.

_And he comes in, wraps his arms around me _

She doesn't see the dark haired man slip into the room as she continues to cry. Her whole body shakes with the sobs she's trying to contain and biting on her knuckles isn't helping at all. He watches as she presses her face to the glass and he knows at once what was going on.

He doesn't say a thing as his feet seem to float over the cherry wood of the kitchen floor. The dark haired man presses his body against her back. She breathes deeply when she realizes who it is and leans back against him, her head on his shoulder. He buries his face in her hair, inhaling the lilac and vanilla that was so uniquely _her_ that it's amazing she hasn't made a perfume for it yet (but he doesn't want anyone stealing her scent because that would be weird). He tangles their fingers across her stomach and just holds her as she cries. He kisses her neck and brushes tears from her eyes, reassuring her that he was there for her- even if he doesn't use words.

_And I don't even have to say a thing_

They stay in that position for as long as it takes the sun to come up. She sighs and the tension seems to slowly leave her body, but there is still that stupid lump in her throat she just _can't_ swallow. He kisses her forehead and softly, as if she is made of glass, turns her around in his arms. He brushes the last of the liquid sadness from her face, kissing each eyelid to clear the last traces, before his lips meet hers in a reassuring kiss. She doesn't smile- he doesn't expect her to- but he _can_ see the small ghost of one in the shadow of a dimple near her right cheekbone.

He'll be there for her, even if he doesn't express it in words.

_That's what makes it love _

She lets him lead her into the living room, placing them both on the couch. He feels her tuck her chin into the niche between shoulder and neck, her breath hot against his skin as she sighs. "I'm sorry," she whispers into the amber lighting of the room. Her whole body is still shaking slightly in his arms and stray tears would spill over every once in a while.

"There's _nothing_ to be sorry for, babe," he reassures her, rubbing her back in comfort. She looks up at him through those long lashes of hers, her brown eyes looking sad and miserable.

_That's what makes it a love song_

"No," she shakes her head, brown tresses waving like flags. "I woke you up." His chuckle reverberates through her body and the echo makes her want to join in, but she doesn't.

"I was up before the beep," he says as he reaches out to tuck a strand of chocolate hair behind her ear. "And I could feel that something was wrong."

"How?" she breathes.

"Because I know you," he tells her honestly. She blinks, looking deep into his eyes, and she can see he's being completely open with her… something he had never done in the past before they got together.

"I know," she whispers, pressing a kiss to the side of his mouth. "I know."

_He comes in, slams the door behind him _

She's making fresh lemonade- his favorite- when he comes in. His eyebrows are furrowed with something akin to worry. She knows he's trying to hide it but he should also know that she can read him like an open book, although she seems to be the only one with that special ability. His eyes, like pools of darkness, are covered by his eyelids as he rubs the bridge of his nose.

_And he can't hide the worry on his face_

She can see a million things running through his mind; she can practically read them as they zip across his eyes. His knuckles are clenched around the Dunkin' Donuts coffee in his hands. She's afraid that the cup is going to explode and spill scalding hot water all over the kitchen floor. She's worried that something's going to snap, but she has never seen him this close before.

_Even though I got a million things to tell him _

She wants to tell him about how her agent/ best guyfriend might have found her a publisher. She wants to tell him about how her other best friend finally got her play on Broadway, a huge accomplishment for a small town girl. But with the way he's looking angrily off into the distance, she knows that he just needs his space.

_I know right now he just needs some space_

She doesn't know what to tell him to make the anger go away, so she just leaves the room with a sigh. She wanders through the house, up to the bed, where she pulls put her manuscript and continues to jot down plot points and minuscule details she might have forgotten.

The brunette almost jumps when she hears something crack in the backyard, until she realizes that he's probably just throwing a few baseballs around, swinging until he's calmed down. She sets down the pile of papers and lays her head on his pillow, breathing in his comforting scent. She wonders what he's so worried about, but she won't ask him until he's ready to talk.

_That's what makes it love _

Soon enough, she's back downstairs in the kitchen finishing up dinner while the lemonade sits on the counter. She looks up from checking temperate of the oven see him walking in, his grey shirt soaked with sweat and hair slicked down to his forehead.

"You okay?" he asks, looking around at the candles she's lit and the soft country ballad playing in the background. She doesn't say anything, only pulls the chicken out of the oven. It's _Costco_ chicken but it's still good.

"Shouldn't I be asking you that?" she retorts. The corner of his mouth lifts up into a weak copy of what she knows is his signature smirk, but his eyes still shine with worry.

"I don't want to talk about it," he tells her sternly, his jaw twitching. She nods and places the chicken on the table, beckoning him to sit with her. He comes over and they sit across from each other at the small table, his eyes on his food while her eyes are on him. "So, how was your day?" he asks, trying to get some small talk going.

_That's what makes it a love song_

She practically beams at him. "My agent thinks I might have a shot!" Her body is almost radiating happiness, her eyes and smile both like blinding lights. "_SongBird's Wings_ might actually take off now." He smiles at her cheerfulness; she is like the sun to his moon, the light to his dark.

"That's great, hon," he looks honestly excited for her, which he is. The rest of dinner is eaten in silence as each focuses on their meal. His hair is falling in his face, eyes not meeting her concerned brown orbs. She picks at her salad, her appetite disappearing as she becomes more concerned about the man she loves.

_That's what makes it love_

He watches from his spot on the bed- a white wifebeater and a pair of sweats on- as she slips into a pair of boy shorts and a navy camisole, followed by his college sweatshirt that's still too big for her. His chuckle makes her look up, brown eyes narrowed in mock anger until she falls onto her side of the bed with a laugh of her own.

"Hey," her whisper catches his attention and her eyes as still soft with the worry she's been harboring ever since he got home. "I just want to know that you're okay…" He sighs and runs a hand through his damp hair. He had showered while she was cleaning up dinner, giving her space to contemplate what might have gone wrong with his day.

_That's what makes it a love song_

"It's the boss again," he admits, another sigh exiting his lips. She pouts and snuggles close to him, picking him arm up and wrapping it around her shoulder. He looks down at her with a small smile on his face. "But it's worth it, knowing that we might be able to get more than what we have now."

She's confused. "I'm happy with what I have now," she tells him. "All I really need is you; the rest is just background." He runs a hand through her chestnut locks, feeling her breath even on his neck. He looks down to see a wide smile on her face and, with a kiss to her forehead, he shuts the light and settles in. Her arms wrap around one of his and he chuckles, pulling her closer by the waist. The dark haired man lets his head fall back on the pillow as he settles in for a long night sleeping with the one he loves.

_Everybody always sings about it _

Her book takes off without a hitch. And while it might not be as popular as _The Hunger Games_ or _Harry Potter_, she's still extremely proud of it. She goes to LA and does talk shows; her agent is extremely on top of things. He was her best friend in high school who went to law school. There he met a bright eyed red head with a bouncing personality. They balance each other out and she's so happy that her best friend got his dream. Now he's helping her achieve her own.

The only part of the book tour that sucks is being away from her boyfriend. He would call her every day, text when he can, but she still misses the feel of his arms around her. She misses how his 5 o'clock shadow brushes against her cheek when they kiss, or the way he would tickle her until she stops pouting. Even being away from him for only a few months is pure torture; she can't even fathom a break up with him... not that either of them wants to.

"I'm sorry," her best friend says as they sit in her hotel room. She has a cup of black coffee cradled in her hand, her movements swirling the dregs around the bottom.

"Why're you sorry?" she asks, confusion swimming in her cocoa brown eyes. "I'm grateful for all you've done! I mean, without you, my book would never have gotten published." She beams at her once awkward best friend- she used to tease him and call him Andy Sandburg- but he's grown up and filled out. He had once carried the awkwardness into college with him but he came out looking like one of the smartest people she knew… even though he kept the nerdy glasses and ethnic Jew-fro.

"Because this tour is _so_ long," he answers, running a hand through his curly hair. "And I know you're struggling, but missing him is okay." She just shoots him a look to tell him to shut up and he does, choosing to inhale his gluten-free doughnut instead.

_How they're never gonna live without it_

"Hi-Hi!" a perky voice comes from the door of the suite, followed by a vibrant red head with a huge smile on her face. "Guys, why do you look so sad?" The red head was always happy, blissfully oblivious, but happy.

"We're fine," her best friend reassures his fiancé as she comes to sit on the couch beside him, resting her head on his shoulder. Bloody spears of red drape over his pale arm and a smile sneaks across the brunette's face as she watches them interact.

"Don't worry," the author smiles, "I just miss him." The red head turns and nods her head before putting it back on his shoulder.

"Maybe we could, you know, shorten the tour or something," the perky red head suggests. Both look at her for, in a moment of clarity, she has just said something intelligent... a rare happening in itself. "Or you could take a break and go home."

Her best friend smiles at the short girl and the brunette herself beams. "That's a great idea!" she claps her hands. "I'll go home for a few days and come back." She turns to her friend and asks, "Will that do anything bad for the book?" When he shakes his head, she screams and hugs both of them tightly before going into her own room of the suite to pack an overnight bag. 'I'm going home,' she thought happily.

_We don't even have to talk about it _

He's out in the backyard chopping wood for the coming winter (it isn't coming for a while but he's _always_ thinking too far ahead) when he hears tires roll across the gravel. It isn't the mail because he had gotten it already and it can't be his best friend from New York with his girlfriend because they weren't coming until the weekend. It most certainly can't be her because her book tour doesn't end until the month after next. He shrugs, thinking it was the neighbors back from yet _another_ vacation when a door slams and the sound of shoes on the gravel makes him stop what he is doing.

Suddenly, warm arms wrap around his waist from behind, a face buries into the space between his shoulder blades. He isn't wearing a shirt, finding it too hot to be working in one anyway, but an electric shock zips up his spine. He can feel warm tears streaming down the other person's cheek to mix with the sweat of his manual labor.

"I'm _home_... I'm _home_... I'm _home_..." her voice keeps up that mantra as she cries tears of joy. He looks over his shoulder to find the woman he thought wouldn't be home for yet another two months. Her brown hair is pulled up into a ponytail and there are lines of fatigue carved into her face. She pulls back, her eyes still wet with tears, and beams at him. It looks like the first true smile she's shown in months.

"Hey," his voice is husky as he turns around, holding her close. Her breath is hot against the skin of his chest and her brown eyes are sparkling in the sunlight. "What are you doing home?" he asks. "I thought the book tour was on for two more months. Not that I'm—"

She pulled away to look at him, the smile not leaving her face. "What? Did you not want me to come home?" she asks, her voice light and teasing. When he gives her what she likes to call 'the look', she just rolls her eyes. "He said I could come home for a few days. Like a mini vacation."

"Well, I'm just glad you're book is doing so well," he tells her, pulling her to him in a kiss. She smiles against his lips, giggling even, as he picks her up bridal style and carries her into the house. "And I'm glad that you're home for..." He looks down at her, a question in his eyes.

"Two days, babe," she tells him, reaching up to cup his cheek in her hand. "Just two days... but it's enough." He places her gently on the bed and she sits up on her knees to wrap her arms around his neck, fingers tangled in his hair, as she kisses him again.

_Cuz we're livin' it out_

The book tour ends early because the red head and her best friend can see she's tired. The book is doing amazing for a small publishing company— but that was how J.K. Rowling started out. They keep in touch when she's off at book signing and he's finally made it into the world of theater, having been casted for his first movie.

"Hey, babe," he calls her while the set is being reset for the next take. On her side, she's biting her lip to keep from spilling the secret she's kept inside for almost a month. Her whole body seems to shake with the effort. He has no idea what's going on. "How's life at home?" He's asked her that many times and she always answers the same.

"Fine," she tells him, tasting iron as she breaks into the skin of her lip. "Everything's fine." But he can hear the slight tremor in her voice and he automatically knows something is _not_ fine.

"Babe, I _know_ you're lying," he calls her out sternly. She's pressed her forehead against the cool of the wall, a pale hand on her shoulder keeping her steady. She's on her cell so he doesn't know that she isn't at home but with her best friend in New York City. "Is everything okay?"

_That's what makes it love _

Before she can answer, the Gothic woman behind her rips the phone from her hand. "I don't care if this is your first chance at making it big, or whatever, your girlfriend needs you more than the acting world does." The caramel-skinned woman beside the pale one is frowning, her lip back between her teeth. She doesn't give him time to answer, just throws the phone down in time to hold her best friend's hair up as she puts her breakfast into the porcelain bowl of the toilet. She tugs brown hair into a ponytail and rubs her back as she whispers soothing words.

"_Why_ can't I tell him?" she asks, more to herself than to the woman beside her. "Why am I so _scared_?"

"Listen to me," her best friend's voice is stern in her ear, a remnant of when they used to be enemies in high school. "He's going to find out sooner or later, but saying it over the phone?" Pale hands on her hips, she stands above the other woman. "Don't you want to see his reaction?" Her eyes are sparking with something the brunette can't figure out. "Don't you want him to place his hands to you and coo like he should?" She's sweeping raven hair from her eyes as she looks around the room. "Don't you want that?"

"I—" the brunette starts, "I just want him to love me and not leave me."

"Your insecurity is showing," the raven haired woman says as she takes the other girl's hand and pulls her up. "He's love you even more for it, not less."

"We're only 25!" the brunette throws her hands up in the air in frustration. "His career is just starting and I'm working on the screenplay for my own book-to-movie. This would make everything fall apart. I can't do that to him… I just can't." Tears are streaming down her cheeks, eyes already red from crying, as the pale woman pulls her close.

"I've seen the way you two look at each other," her voice is soft as she tries to sooth the small girl inside the woman before her. "He doesn't care what he has or what he does with his life. All he cares it that you're in it. All he wants is _you_!"

"But will he still want me enough to pull his career on the line, enough to throw away all that he's worked for?" her voice is trembling with sobs, her tears coming from the ocean storming inside her.

"Why don't we see what he says?" the raven haired woman strokes her best friend's wavy chestnut locks down, twisting one behind her ear as it comes undone from the ponytail. At the other girl's nod, she pulls her up and the two of them watch reruns of _iCarly_ and _Drake&Josh_ for the rest of the day, calling out favorite lines and booing the bad guys. By the end of the night their eyes are full of laughter and the brunette's heart is lighter.

_That's what makes it a love song_

"You're what…?" he asks her to repeat her statement. His voice cracks as he looks down at his girlfriend, eyes wide with shock.

"I'm sorry!" she cries, not seeing the reaction she wants all. Behind her the raven haired woman looks on, her eyes watching with wary icy blue. "I didn't mean for it to happen… but it did… and we can't go back because you know how I feel about _that_." There are tears again as she looks down, pulling away from him to curl up on the bed: legs folded, arms wrapped around knees, head resting between thighs and stomach, chestnut waves creating a curtain from the world. She can't bear to look at him, a choked sob rent from her throat at the thought of losing him. Her dark haired friend steps forward only to be glared at by the man, his dark eyes full of questions that she has no right to answer.

"Hey." He puts a hand on her back, his gestures soft as he tries to show her through actions what she doesn't seem to be accepting in words. He reaches under the curtain of her hair to cup her chin. Smoothing a thumb over her jaw, he pulls her head up until their eyes meet. "Babe, you don't have to be afraid or sorry. _Never_ be sorry for the amazing thing we did… the amazing thing we _created_ together." Her sides of the bed sags as he sits beside her and her milk chocolate eyes are watching his every move. The raven haired woman left the room to give them some time to work it over, texting her boyfriend about maybe catching some lunch if he wasn't busy.

"But then why—?" she tries to ask but is cut off when she feels his soft lips on her own. They move together, creating a tangled universe in the lilac sheets that is all their own.

He pants above her, eyes soft and dark in the dim light of the early sunset. "Because I wanted to hear you say it again," he beams at her, teeth gleaming as he bends down to nibble on the skin of her neck, pulling a soft sound from her. "I could hear you say it over and over again and I would never turn away."

"I love you so much," she whispers in the darkness of the oncoming night. "I'm sorry I'm ruining your career." There is water again in her eyes as she blinks them back, the sting making her curse softly.

"Babe," he starts, resting his forehead against hers. She blinks once, twice, three times and he wipes a tear from her cheek. "My career doesn't matter, my job doesn't matter." When she is about to open her mouth to say something else he stops her with his words, "You're the _only_ thing that matters."

And she is crying again, weakly punching his shoulder and yelling at him for being cheesy and making her cry. And he's laughing right there with her, pretending her punches hurt. "But how are we—?" He shuts her up by pressing his lips to hers: soft brown hair brushing against his face, tasting her tears in their kiss, one hand wrapped around his wrist as he tilts his head to kiss her deeper.

"We'll figure it out… together," he whispers in her ear, placing a soft kiss beside it that makes her gasp and arch her body slightly into his. "But you should stop worrying, because I'm not going anywhere."

"Good," she growls, pulling him closer to her, a giggle tumbling from her lips as he tickles her sides. She turns her head to the side to let him recapture her lips in a searing kiss, pouring all the love into her that he can show. They might not know what to do, but those worries are for the future.

_That's what makes it love_

He watches in awe as she swaths the small bundle in warm blankets she made him bring from home. Her voice is soft as she coos and babbles, placing her finger in the little creature hand. Suddenly, she looks up at him, brown eyes tired and bright, as she grabs his hand and pulls him to her. Placing a tender yet exhausted kiss on his lips, she takes his hand in hers and puts it under a soft and weak neck.

"What should we name her?" she asks as she helps him hold the small bundle in his arms, her hand helping him hold her head. He beams as the small miracle opens its eyes and blinks up at him, hazel eyes shining in the ambient light of the hospital.

"What do you want to name her?" he asks, watching her as she takes the bundle from his arms and brings it to her chest. The nurse had come in before and explained how she was to feed the small infant, how to breastfeed and how it would feel strange at the beginning. She pulls down the side of the scratchy gown and the child latches on, feeding hungrily.

He watches as her face scrunches up in pain before she smiles at him. "I really like Zara…" she starts, looking to him for approval. "It means radiance." He nods and takes a seat on the plastic chair beside her bed, looking her over.

"Where is my godchild!" a raven haired woman rushes into the room with a scream, her ocean colored eyes almost shining with joy. The baby jerks away from its mother and begins to cry again, a wail that is almost unbearable. "She's beautiful," the woman breaths as she takes the small bundle and cradles it in her arms.

"Hey," the new mother beams as she watches her best friend—who usually hates children and calls them 'little monsters'—hold the small baby as if it was porcelain. "It's great to see you."

"I'm so happy for you guys," the raven haired woman beams as the small baby tries to reach for one of her raven curls. "What's her name?" Hazel eyes blink up at her.

"We were thinking about Zara, meaning radiance," the brunette answers. "Or maybe Cordelia, which means heart." She smiles as the other woman begins to coo and the baby gurgles back.

"I like Cordelia a little better," the man in the room admits, looking between the two women and his child. "She's gonna have a big heart, just like her mom." Both women chuckle as he tries to take the baby from them.

"Your flattery will get you nowhere, babe," the new mother reprimands him with a smile.

"It got me an amazing girlfriend, and a beautiful child," he whispers. She giggles and wraps one arm around him, the other still holding the newborn to her body. He smiled and copied her movement, almost beaming as she snuggled up against him.

"Aww, you guys are _so_ cute!" the raven haired woman rushes to the end of the bed where she snaps multiple pictures of the beautiful new family. He even leaned down to kiss her and put an arm on the baby for the picture. "This is _definitely_ going into my next portfolio." She beams, the photographer inside her sparking as she realizes the perfect opportunity for a new showcase is right in front of her.

_That's what makes it a love song_

They are at the Academy Awards, waiting for his name to be called for Best Male Actor in the category of Horror/Mystery. _Well Wishes, _the play her best friend turned into a haunting movie, has already won Best Horror/Mystery movie and the black haired woman beside her is shaking with joy. Her speech was short and concise, her smile wide as she thanked her boyfriend and supportive friends, her staff and all of the people in the production.

"And the Best Male Actor is Short Films is…" the announcer is looking out at the crowd with a big smile on her face. And then she is announcing his name and her hand feels like it's going to break from the pressure he is putting on it. When he is still in shock, sitting there with a blank look on his face, she kisses his cheek and pushes him into the aisle. He stumbles to the podium and accepts the award from the beautiful actress with a kind smile. He is holding it up and thanking everyone, although he has yet to mention her or their daughter. Speaking of her daughter, she needs to call her mother to check up on the small child; her mom had promised that she would take care of her, having already taken care of two now grown girls. With a small smile on her face, she stands up and walked into the aisle, her friends shooting her strange looks. But then he is calling her name and she spins around in confusion as he beckons her to the strange. She obeys.

"What are you doing?" she hisses in his ear as she stands beside him.

"Something I've wanted to do for a long time," he whispers back. The actress that has announced the award is smiling as if she knows what was goings, which she does. He brings her to the front of the stage, in front of the podium. Before all of the spectators and guests attending, he gets down on one knee and takes out a small black box. "We've been together for such a long time. We have a beautiful daughter and many supportive friends." She brings a hand to her mouth in shock, a tear falling down her high cheekbone.

Below, her two best friends are beaming at each other. They had never gotten along in high school—the raven haired woman was often mean to the curly haired man—but they had gotten over their differences. Now they aren't close, but acquaintances that both love the same girl like a sister. They listen as the man goes on and on about their life together, from the day they met until their child was born. The raven haired woman grabs the hand of the Jew-fro guy and there are dark rivers streaming down her cheeks. Beside him is the red head with tears of her own in her eyes. The dark skinned mal sitting beside the pale girl is squeezing her other hand. "I'm so happy for her," the woman sobs, her tears warm on her cheeks. The others nod.

On stage, he pops the question. "Will you marry me?" he asks, looking up at her. His brown eyes are sparkling gold in the stage light. She is crying tears of happiness and almost relief—she thought he was never going to ask her—and she doesn't care if she looks stupid or if she embarrasses him. She collapses beside him with a huge smile on her face as she nods before crying out a happy yes to the crowd. There is pandemonium as everyone attending shouts happy wishes for the newly engaged couple. Even the announcer, who has been standing on the side happily, comes to congratulate them. They walk off the stage with huge smiles on their faces, tears still streaming down her cheeks.

"Why'd you do that?" she asks him later when they are lounging in bed. "Why'd you do that in front of all of those people?" She is shaking her head, brown hair falling across her bare shoulders. She is wearing one of his old shirts over a sky blue camisole, a flannel he's obsessed with. The shoulders of the shirt are slipping down and pool at her elbow to bare both her shoulders. A pair of boy shorts completes the outfit. "I mean, you could've proposed privately or something." But she is smiling and he knows that she doesn't care where he did it.

"Because I wanted to show the world that you're mine," he kissed her tenderly, cupping her face in his hand. "Everyone needs to know that I'm taken, and that you are too." She smiles into the softness of his lips as he pulls her closer. "I want to spend the rest of my life with you."

She blinks the haze from her eyes and beams. "I want to spend my lifetime loving you, too," she whispers. They are alone in the house; her mother had begged her to let their child stay over for the night. And so they cuddle together and watch the movie over and over again until she falls asleep in his arms, her brown hair splayed across his chest.

"I love you," he whispers into the darkness as he shuts off the TV and pulls her closer to him. They fall asleep in peace.

_That's what makes it love_

"I caught it!" her raven haired best friend cries as she rushes over to the brunette. She thrusts a bouquet of flowers—irises and white lilies—into her face. "I caught it!" she repeats when she gets no reaction. The brunette screams and hugs her before throwing a pointed look over her shoulder at her best friend's boyfriend. The dark skinned man just chuckles nervously and glares back. The brunette continues with the stare down until there is a bouncing red head in front of her face.

"I'm so happy for you," the red head screams in her ear and she cringes on the inside while her outward appearance doesn't change. "I mean, it's a perfect day for the perfect occasion." She nods with a huge smile on her face until the girl bounces off.

Suddenly, there is a tugging at the edge of her skirt. The brunette looks down to see her two-year-old daughter, brown hair curled and pinned back with sparkly butterfly clips and a wide smile on her face.. "Mommy, when we get cake?" she asked, hazel eyes looking hopeful. The woman chuckles before her best friend picks up the small child and asks her for a dance. The raven haired woman beams at the bride over the small girl's head and whispers a your welcome before waltzing off.

"Can I have this dance?" a voice from behind her asks. She spins around, the white dress swirling around her legs, as she meets the eyes of her nerdy friend. She nods and the man takes her hand and leads her to the dance floor. She looks over his head to see her man standing with his best friend. They have yet to dance together. "Are you okay?"

At her friend's soft question she turns back to him. "He still hasn't danced with me," she said childishly. Her face flushes when she realizes just _how_ childish she is being and he just smiles at her.

"Hey, you'll get your special dance," he reassures her before pulling away. She realizes he has led her to the center of the dance floor and it's empty.

"What are you-?" she begins before he backs away with a bow and disappears to the sidelines. So she stands alone, braving the watchful eyes and the stares of her friends and family. She looks around and almost jumps when the song changes and a shadow steps forward. She can't see his features because she is looking into the light. But as soon as he wraps his arms around her—she places her hands on his shoulders in response—and he looks down at her.

"Hey, I heard you wanted a dance," he whispers in her ear, making a shiver zip up her spine. She beams at him as she is swept off her feet by the man of her dreams.

"I did," she nodded before she lays her head on his chest, content with just being in the moment. "I want to stay like this forever," she sings, remembering a random line in a song she once heard and her head vibrates with the sound of his chuckle.

"You're so weird," he smiles down at her, pressing a tender kiss to her forehead. "But I love you anyway."

She giggles. "And you're a nutball, but I love you anyway, too." The song plays in the background, the ballad playing through her bones.

_That's what makes it a love song_

"We've gotten this far, we can't give up now," he tells her as he sits beside her on the couch. She looks up at him.

"I know but she's just so… so _infuriating_!" she screams as she buries her hands in her hair. "I mean, she never tells me anything and she's always out late and she-" He interrupts her with a kiss.

"She's a teenager, babe," he chuckles. "She's gonna be like that. I mean, you were the same way." She rolls her eyes and pecks him on the cheek before going up the stairs to where the music is pounding. "Cordie, open this door!" The music stops abruptly and an auburn haired girl rips open the door.

"What?" the sixteen-year-old snaps, really not in the mood to be yelled at. Her hair looks like a reddish brown in the ambient light of the hallway and her hazel eyes are narrowed.

"I just wanted to say I'm sorry for yelling at you before," the older woman says, running a hand through her hair. "I just wanted you to be here when everyone comes over." The brunette sighed as her daughter leaned against her door, arms crossed.

"Mom, they're _your_ friends, not mine," Cordelia rolled her eyes. "Everyone's going to this bonfire down on the beach. I want to go!" She was pouting, full lips turned down into a frown.

"Honey, listen to me," the brunette took her daughter in her arms. "They've been dying to see you. Why don't we have our own bonfire… we do have a private beach right outside."

"You would do that… for me?" her eyes brightened as she realized what her mother was saying. Although the woman was slightly afraid of fire, having almost burned down the house when Cordelia was a child, she would do that to make her daughter happy. The older woman nodded, a small smile playing on her lips.

"You can even invite Zane," the older woman watched as her daughter beamed. Both laughed as she kissed her mother on the cheek before rushing back into her room to call her best friend.

She turned around with a smile when she saw her husband. "You caved, didn't you?" he asked as he pulled her into a hug. She nodded against his chest.

"She's wanted a bonfire on the beach for so long, and now she gets to have one," the brunette beamed at the dark haired man. "I've been thinking… you know how she loves animals and her birthday is coming up soon…" He nodded. "We should get her a puppy or something."

"Babe, we had baby sea turtles hatching in our backyard last week," he shook his head, "she slept on the beach with her boyfriend so they could protect them." The woman giggled and suddenly the door opened.

"I know you're talking about me," Cordelia told them, her hands on her hips. "The door isn't sound proof." Her long chestnut hair hung almost to her waist and she pulled it into a quick French braid. She had never let her mother's red headed friend, who had decided to become a hair stylist once she had had Annie. The only thing she would get cut were the split ends and her bangs.

"Well, we were just talking about how you saved those turtles," the woman smiled. "You're going to be a marine biologist when you grow up, right?"

"I was actually thinking about writing a book, Mom," she beamed. "Or owning a horse or something." The two adults rolled her eyes. Together they leapt at the girl and chased her around the house, deaf to her shouts and pleas to stop.

They're a happy family, even after all the ups and downs, the trials and tribulations, all of the tears and sweat and pain. He places an arm around each of his girls as they all fall onto the master bed. "My girls," he whispers as they lay there, content with their lives. Tomorrow doesn't matter, yesterday is forgotten, but the present is all they knew.

**Doing a whole one-shot with no names except Cordelia's was really hard. I hope it doesn't confuse people too much! Please review and tell me what you thought, beyond 'i love it' or 'it was a great story'. I want to know your thoughts behind why you thought it was good. Please review!**


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